


Drama Club

by Lavavulture



Series: One, Two, Three [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dubious Consent Fantasy, M/M, Multi, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavavulture/pseuds/Lavavulture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a kinkmeme prompt.  Cole wants to try his hand at a little role-playing and Dorian really leans into his part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drama Club

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a fucking liar; this is the end of this series. Unless I write more. I can't be trusted to deny myself when it comes to these three.

“Now are you certain?” Dorian asked for the sixtieth time, throat dry from anticipation and nervousness. 

Cole nodded into his neck and even though Dorian knew that the spirit’s capacity for patience was limitless, he couldn’t help but feel that there was some irritation mixed into his voice when he repeated what he’d been saying from the beginning, “Yes. Pretending and playing until we forget to be us. Like you and The Iron Bull did before me.”

“You don’t have to do it just because Bull and I have done it,” Dorian said and stroked Cole’s messy hair lovingly. It did grow and Dorian adored every broken strand.

“I want to,” Cole said, stubbornness pinned to the bottom of his words, and Iron Bull chuckled low before pulling Dorian closer. Cole followed like the trail of smoke from a spell, twining and twisting until he was as close to Dorian as was physically possible. Cole’s pale eyelashes fluttered as he yawned and pressed his face back into the curve of Dorian’s neck. His last words that night were half-whispered against his skin, “I do want to, Dorian.”

“We’ll have to make sure that we’re all clear on where the limits are but you know there’s no arguing with the kid when he’s got his head stuck on something,” Iron Bull murmured in Dorian’s ear, sounding proud. 

Dorian sighed. “I know. You’ve taught him to be entirely too stubborn.”

And Dorian let Iron Bull’s laughter send him off to his own sleep, even as he planned for their upcoming engagement. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t inspire pleasant dreams. He was going to get to wear his best robes for this.

 

Magister Dorian Pavus lounged on silken pillows and hated the South. It was provincial and cold and nobody ever knew how to make a good cup of coffee, no matter how many times he threatened them. It was enough to drive a man back to the Imperium, but he had his orders and he would obey like the loyal citizen he was.

As Dorian continued to lounge and ruminate on his many problems, The Iron Bull came barging into his room. He was effortlessly dragging a struggling man behind him, pulling him along Dorian’s fine, plush carpet. Dorian sighed heavily. “Did I say that you could come in?”

“Can I come in? Dominus?” Dorian had to sigh again. The Iron Bull was a magnificent bodyguard and possessed an equally magnificent body but he was a truly terrible slave. Dorian might have to teach him lessons in proper behavior again, which frankly sounded like a lot of work. Although it had been rather enjoyable the last time.

“I suppose. What is this you’ve dragged in?” Dorian watched as Iron Bull clapped one of his large hands down onto the shoulder of the man and forced him to his knees in front of him. The man stopped his flailing in order to gape at Dorian on his divan. 

The man was younger than him, although Dorian thought that Fereldan men always seemed both younger and older than their years. It had to be the complete lack of any real civilization in their lives. A Tevinter man his age would never have raised such uncertain, guileless eyes to a stranger. Those same eyes were shadowed and sunken into a pale, pointed face that seemed to naturally lend itself to a melancholy expression. His hair was that bright blond that some Southern men had, cut raggedly and with no discernable style. Altogether he didn’t strike Dorian as an impressive find, certainly not one worth disturbing his rest over.

“Found him poking around the ruins. A spy,” Iron Bull said the word with relish, tightening his grip on the man’s shoulder. Dorian noted vaguely that the man had rather broad shoulders for all that he was fairly gangly. Avvar perhaps? But they didn’t usually stray so far from the mountains and the man’s clothes, odd and mismatched as they were, definitely screamed Fereldan.

“No, that’s wrong. That’s not me,” the man said, his accent an uncertain Fereldan stumble. That answered that question. The man tried to lift up under Iron Bull’s hand and was pushed down harder for his troubles. “Please, I was just here. I didn’t know that you were here too.”

“Of course not. It would ruin the surprise if all you people knew we were here.” Dorian rose to his feet with some reluctance and approached the man. “Who sent you?”

The man looked down, obscuring his face under his messy hair. “No one. I wanted to be here, so I was. I didn’t know you wanted to be here too.”

Dorian exchanged a quick look with Iron Bull. The Qunari seemed entirely too pleased by the whole situation and Dorian could guess why. The savage enjoyed his interrogations. Dorian found that he usually enjoyed them as well and he supposed he didn’t have anything better to do this afternoon, besides bemoan the lack of a public bathing house nearby. And he didn’t think that this would take long. 

“You’re lying,” Iron Bull said, leaning his head down slightly to send his words down the man’s neck. “You’re with the Inquisition.”

Dorian started in surprise. Iron Bull was coming out swinging. He doubted this nervous creature was a spy for the Inquisition but he had heard the rumors of the Left Hand’s cunning. Perhaps she was recruiting Fereldan farmers to spy on the Magisterium.

“No,” the man said but the word was small and quiet. He shivered under Iron Bull’s breath. 

Dorian curled his fingers under the intruder’s chin and lifted his face up to him. His eyes were an arresting shade of blue that Dorian thought was much too bright for such a sad face. And as Dorian examined him closer he couldn’t help but notice that he had a soft-looking mouth, trembling and unsure. It made him think of pleasurable ideas. Perhaps he would have something more amusing to do this afternoon than scoff at Southern magical scholarship. 

“What is your name, spy?” Dorian asked.

That soft mouth worked a moment as the man tried to avoid looking at him. “Cole. What’s yours?”

“That’s not important,” Dorian said, although he was amused by the question. This man was proving to be more interesting than he’d thought. “Perhaps in time you will come to call me Dominus. If you’re very fortunate.”

“You’re from the Imperium. Is it true what they say about magisters?” Cole’s bright eyes flitted over to Dorian with greater intensity before tripping away.

“Probably.” Dorian considered him. “What do they say?” 

Cole seemed to think about his answer for a time. Just when Dorian could see that Iron Bull was about to hurry him along, his answer came out in a rush, “That they all practice blood magic and keep spirits as pets.”

“Such imagination.” Dorian smiled at Iron Bull, crooked and suggestive. “I might be willing to tell you all about the Imperium if you’re good and answer my questions.” 

“I don’t think I should,” Cole said. He wrung his hands together uncertainly. “The Chantry says that the Imperium lies.”

“It does. We do. All civilized people do. How else would we get anything done?” Dorian dug his fingers into the skin on Cole’s chin. The man breathed in sharply. “But you’re not going to lie to me. Isn’t that right, Bull?”

“Right, Boss,” Iron Bull said and then rolled his eye when Dorian glared at him. “I mean Dominus.”

“Let’s see now. Whatever might I want to know from you?” Dorian turned his grip into a caress along Cole’s pointed chin. “Where are you from?”

Cole shook under Dorian’s caress, his pale eyelids lowering under his jagged strands of hair. “I’m not from anywhere. The place where I was born wasn’t a place and then we went to other places that weren’t really places.”

“How mysterious.” Dorian let his fingers trail down Cole’s long neck and rest on the dip in his collarbone, peeking out above his torn shirt. “Not really an answer though, was it, Iron Bull?”

“Nope.” And Iron Bull reached down and grabbed Cole’s arms, effortlessly folding them up behind him in one of his huge hands. 

“No.” Dorian smiled. Cole blinked uncertainly at him, struggling briefly and fruitlessly in Iron Bull’s grip as Dorian pulled out a long, thin knife. He pressed the tip of it to the dip where his fingers had been. Cole stared at it. “Let’s skip all these vagaries, shall we? Did that meddlesome dwarf Inquisitor send you to spy on me?”

“I don’t know the Herald. Some people say that she’s touched by Andraste but others think that she’s a lie sent to confuse us while the sky pulls itself apart.” Cole swallowed as Dorian trailed the knife down. “I’m not a spy. I like the ruins. They’re older than they feel.”

“You like the ruins? Is that your excuse for being here?” Dorian let the tip of his blade poke against Cole’s stomach, not enough to even penetrate the cloth but enough so that he could feel its sharpness. “You should see the ruins we have back home. They put these piddling piles of rock to shame.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Cole asked, shaking. “You don’t have to. I can leave and forget that you were here. I can be good at forgetting.”

“I never like to be forgotten. I prefer to leave an impression.” Dorian locked eyes with Iron Bull once again and nodded. Iron Bull immediately clasped his free hand under Cole’s chin, holding him firmly in place. “But maybe I can be convinced.”

Dorian reached for the belt holding his resplendent casual robes closed and let the silken cloth fall open. Cole looked surprised to see that he was naked underneath, which just went to show how rustic and prudish the Fereldan people were. Dorian reached down to slide teasing fingers around his cock, slipping around just enough to make his breath press out between his relaxed lips. He could feel Iron Bull’s sole, penetrating eye hungry on his body and he stroked himself a second more. Sometimes the savage would lose his thin veneer of control and Dorian would let him do something about it. But today he preferred to tease.

Cole was also watching him, his pale cheeks growing flushed at the sight of Dorian’s cock thickening in his hand. If Cole was a spy, Dorian wondered how far he would go to protect his identity. If he wasn’t, if he was just some unfortunate vagabond, Dorian wondered how far he and Iron Bull could push him down all the delicious trails of depravity they so enjoyed. 

“Have you ever sucked a man’s cock before?” Dorian asked, pressing his thumb against the top of his warm, pulsing flesh. 

Cole shivered again. “No?”

“Excellent time to learn.” Dorian pressed the tip of his cock to Cole’s lips and enjoyed how his eyes widened, how his mouth naturally fell open in surprise. Iron Bull held it open in a rough hand as Dorian slid the head inside. “If you bite, you’ll find this a less pleasant experience. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Cole said around the growing cock in his mouth. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Now show me what you Fereldan peasants can do.” Dorian wound his fingers up gently in Cole’s hair and pushed deeper inside.

Cole’s tongue was wet and warm against him and after a few unresponsive seconds he began sliding it against him, tasting and testing his flesh. 

“Oh, now I know you’re a liar. You’ve done this before.” Dorian closed his eyes briefly and moaned as Cole took him in deeper, sucking sweetly around him. He was definitely a more interesting catch than Dorian had previously thought. He would have to reward Iron Bull for his foresight. He opened his eyes and nodded to Iron Bull. “I imagine you’d like a taste of this.”

“You know it,” Iron Bull said, his voice low and dark as he stroked his thumb up towards Cole’s open mouth.

“That might be a bit advanced for you,” Dorian murmured down to Cole even as he worked his hips harder against his mouth. “Ah. A Qunari cock requires a bit more expertise to manage. We’d have to work you up to it.”

“Dominus.” Iron Bull must have been feeling frustrated to use the proper form of address without prompting. “Can I fuck him?”

Cole actually whined at that question, sending a delightful tremor along Dorian’s cock. Dorian glanced down and pulled out slowly, sliding his wet tip against Cole’s mouth as he left. “What do you think of that idea, spy? You were certainly lying about sucking cock but have you ever been fucked by a man?”

Cole shook his head hard, trembling in Iron Bull’s grip. “No, I’ve watched and-and wondered but I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t think that I should. It might not be good.”

“Trust me, it would be very good.” Dorian wrapped his hand back around his cock and stroked while he decided what he wanted next. He could practically feel Iron Bull’s frustration and it made him ache in pleasure. There were few things as delicious as testing the limits of the savage’s self-control. Cole swallowed hard, his gaze locked on Dorian’s slow movements and that made his decision for him. He slid his knife casually back down the front of Cole’s shirt and then gestured to Iron Bull. “These clothes are an affront to my good taste. Do something about them.”

“Sure,” Iron Bull said and immediately ripped Cole’s shirt off of him. Cole half-rose to his feet in protest but Iron Bull pushed him to the ground as easily as a dragon toying with a nug. Dorian admired the surprisingly strong lines of Cole’s body as Iron Bull began working off his trousers, revealing a long, thickening cock and toned legs. Iron Bull huffed out his own appreciation when he rolled Cole onto his stomach to admire his round ass. Dorian rolled his eyes. Bull was positively obsessed with asses.

Iron Bull reached out to casually roll his hands into the firm flesh on Cole’s backside and he smirked up at Dorian. “So was that a yes on the fucking?”

“Oh!” Cole seemed jolted out of his paralyzing surprise at Iron Bull’s words. He managed to slide away from his hands, quick as a fox, and he stared up at Dorian. “I don’t think this is right.”

“Hmmmm, Bull might be a bit much for you. Show him what you have down there.” Dorian slipped his fingers back down into Cole’s hair as Iron Bull eagerly yanked off this ridiculous belt and began pulling his trousers down. Cole was looking dazedly at Dorian’s cock as Iron Bull fully unrobed, his expression somewhere between hesitation and curiosity. Dorian thought that it was a much nicer expression on his face than melancholy. He wondered how pleasure would transform his features.

“I’m not that big,” Iron Bull said, cupping his cock in one hand contemplatively. “Maybe a little above average. He can handle it.”

“What do you think, spy? Are you brave enough to take a Qunari cock your first time?” Dorian was envious at the thought. He’d seen other Qunari men naked in pictures and in the Fade. They were all big compared to humans but Iron Bull was certainly not just above average.

Cole let Dorian’s hand in his hair guide his focus over to Iron Bull and he made a small noise. He glanced down towards his own lap before actually moving towards Bull. Dorian let him go and watched with surprised bemusement as the man got close to Iron Bull’s heavy cock and examined it.

“You’re very big,” Cole said and sounded accusatory.

Iron Bull shrugged. “I guess. Why don’t you get your hands on it? It won’t bite.”

Of course Iron Bull would and Dorian had the proof of that marked on his own hips and thighs. The creature was a brute, barely kept in check by Dorian’s magic and even then he sometimes seemed like he was just playing along for his own reasons.

Cole reached out but his fingers hesitated before touching Iron Bull’s cock. He glanced up at him for a moment and then shivered at his expression before peeking back at Dorian. “I thought you wanted to ask me questions.”

“Stop stalling,” Iron Bull growled and took his hand. He pressed it against his cock and began leading him down the length, grunting in satisfaction. “That’s better.”

“Oh yes, questions. Let me see.” Dorian sank gracefully down to his knees behind Cole and reached around his body. He trailed his hands down his chest and stomach while he bit at his ear. Cole whimpered, his hand going limp in Iron Bull’s grip. Iron Bull tugged on him until he began sliding his fingers hesitantly over his hardening cock once again. Dorian found an interesting collection of freckles on his right shoulder—Fereldens were so prone to all these freckles—and he licked along them. “I have a good question. Would you rather I or Iron Bull fucked you?”

“That’s not-,” Cole closed his eyes and moaned throatily as Dorian finally reached down to take his cock in hand, “-that’s not a real question. You already know what you’re going to do and it ends the same way and I never made a choice.”

“Do you think you can see into the future?” Dorian peered up at Iron Bull from the ground, knowing that the sight would just enflame him more. “Maybe we’ll just let you go and answer questions between ourselves.”

“No!” Cole jerked in his arms and firmed his grip on Iron Bull’s cock. “I changed my mind. I’ll do what you want.”

“How quickly he betrays his country. It’s a shame, really.” Dorian kissed his shoulder again and reached over into his robes for the tiny jar of oil he’d put in there that morning. “It’s a good thing that I reward this kind of disloyalty.”

“So you’re going to fuck him then,” Iron Bull said, disappointed, as he watched Dorian drip the oil onto his cock and then slide his hand teasingly down Cole’s back.

“Well, obviously first.” Dorian listened to Cole moan as he replaced his fingers with the head of his cock and pushed in slowly. The sound was beguiling. He would need to study it further. For his research into the Southern people and their odd ways, of course. “You seem like you’re not the sort to tire easily, spy. Don’t you think it’s fair if we both get a turn?”

“Yes, both and again and, oh, Dorian, please.” Cole buried his face in Iron Bull’s stomach as Dorian fucked into him.

“ _Amatus_ , you’re not supposed to know my name,” Dorian admonished even as he began thrusting harder into him, spurred on by his choked cries.

“We’ll just have to try this again,” Iron Bull said, pressing his cock to Cole’s mouth until he eagerly took it in, sucking him with ferocity. “Practice make perfect. Dominus.”

Dorian took Cole’s muffled sounds as agreement. He supposed he would be gracious and play along with them again. He was truly a patient and understanding man for indulging in their perversions. 

He supposed that it was just good breeding.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not a sexy image but I feel like Dorian's "Magister Pavus" persona is just the Hedonismbot from Futurama. He's going to make Cole feed him lots of grapes while he lounges the rest of the day.


End file.
